


you got mud on your face, big disgrace

by mitigates



Series: on the verge [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hurt and not much comfort, Implied Relationship, Insecurity, M/M, Olympics, Post-Time Skip, open ended ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitigates/pseuds/mitigates
Summary: That sad smile that only Iwaizumi had seen was plastered across Oikawa’s face again. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but feel like Oikawa had just backhanded him. He hadn’t ever seen it that way. He didn’t have the gall to see Oikawa as anything other than his best friend, even if they were on opposite sides of the net. Oikawa was always just...Oikawa. He was the source of his comfort and the source of his light. Oikawa was his constant. Oikawa was- Oikawa...hated him? Did Oikawa hate him?
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: on the verge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186439
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	you got mud on your face, big disgrace

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at the end of the manga. It isn't really spoilers? I mean, I guess it could be- we don't know who wins the game at the end of the manga (at the olympics) I made up these results 100% but if you don't know what happens with Oikawa post time-skip in regards to his volleyball career and you don't want to know, don't read this.
> 
> title from: we will rock you - queen

“I’m quitting.” Oikawa stated confidently with a wistful smile.

Iwaizumi hummed in response, still pumped up with more adrenaline than he knew what to do with. Iwaizumi scrolled through his phone for a moment longer before he froze, looking up at Oikawa. The taller man wasn’t looking at him. His hands were tangled in the loose torso of his jersey, still soaked through with sweat. The game had ended, the score still plastered on the large LED scoreboard. Iwaizumi turned his head to look at the final score, a match that went full sets and ended in a win by two simple points. His eyes fell back to Oikawa where he sat, desperately trying not to let the calm facade slip. 

“You’re quitting?” Iwaizumi asked. “Quitting what exactly?” He shoved his phone into his pocket and squatted next to Oikawa.

Oikawa simply laughed, a single syllable laugh as his lips stretched in the most insincere smile that Iwaizumi had seen in years. “You know. You know.” Oikawa whispered his response, a long pause in between words.

Iwaizumi laid a gentle hand on the thick white brace Oikawa was wearing. “Is it your knee? Is it too much?”

Oikawa blinked up at the blinding fluorescent lights. “When has that ever been too much for me?”

“I have suggestions for a training regime we can get you on. I know a guy who had the same kind of injury and he plays fine now-”

“Fine-” Oikawa whispered again. “Fine.” He lowered his head to face Iwaizumi who was still squatting in front of him. “I am done being just ‘fine’, Hajime.”

“What does that even more? You’re not- stop. You’re more than fine and you know it. You’re one of the best-”

“Stop, Iwa-chan. Please.” Oikawa’s voice was low as he brought a hand up to press against his eyes, preemptively catching tears that had been threatening to spill over for the past few hours since the game ended. “Just stop.”

Iwaizumi stood up defiantly. “No, I won’t stop. What are you talking about- you’re quitting? You’re 27 years old, shittykawa, you have plenty of time ahead of you-”

“Why?”

“Why what?” Iwaizumi’s tone was dripping with exasperation. 

“Why should it matter whether or not I have plenty of time ahead of me? Do you not realize what today means?”

Iwaizumi sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’re not about to start throwing a pity party, you emotional asshole. Even _being_ at the Olympics is a gift.”

“It is. I know it’s a gift, almost everything that I’ve ever wanted.” Oikawa eyes traced back to the scoreboard.

“Almost- fuck, man. You have next time, 4 years isn’t that long-”

Oikawa closed his eyes and breathed in slowly. “4 years. Another 4 years.” Oikawa cracked his eyes back open and followed the final score of each match.

  
  


_Match 1,_ **_Japan_ ** _v Argentina: 28-26_

 _Match 2, Japan v_ **_Argentina_ ** _: 20-25_

 _Match 3,_ **_Japan_ ** _v Argentina: 31-29_

 _Match 4, Japan v_ **_Argentina_ ** _: 28-30_

 _Match 5,_ **_Japan_ ** _v Argentina: 34-32_

**_Olympic Gold Medal Winner: Japan_ **

  
  


Oikawa read the words out loud, much to Iwaizumi’s dismay. Oikawa couldn’t hold himself together long enough to read the final few words. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. None of this was how it was supposed to go.

“I- I trained for so long, so goddamn long. So many years of my life. I’ve given up everything for volleyball but- I don’t know anymore, volleyball isn’t giving anything for me- to me, even.”

Iwaizumi’s own face fell with how defeated Oikawa sounded. He wanted to reach out for him but couldn’t bring himself to do so. There wasn’t an ounce of anger detected in his voice, it was nothing but pain.

“This wasn’t- I don’t-” Oikawa let out a shuddered breath. “I can’t beat them. No matter what I do. No matter how hard I train, no matter what I put my body through- I cannot beat them.”

“Oikawa, it’s not-”

“He came to me for advice, Tobio-chan did. He came to me for advice about what to do with Shouyou all those years ago. Before nationals, before graduating, before I left- he came to me. What I said worked. He needed to work _with_ Sho-chan instead of controlling him like he always did. Then Sho-chan found me in Argentina and again… he helped me love volleyball all over again but the advice- I don’t- _they_ came to _me_ and they beat me- over and over and over.” 

Oikawa looked up at the scoreboard a last time and whispered the words, “Japan.”

Iwaizumi frowned and held a hand out. “You can’t quit, trashykawa. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

“Even you, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa continued, not quite hearing what Iwaizumi said.

Iwaizumi choked on his next words, standing in stunned silence.

“Even you beat me. You said it yourself- you always said you would win. Do you remember? That night after we lost? Do you-”

Iwaizumi’s hand fell untouched between them. “I remember telling you that despite us being on different teams in the future, you being the best setter would never change.”

“Yet you just claimed I’m _one of_ the best. I’m not _the_ best anymore.” Oikawa wasn’t bragging or trying to gloat, he was simply stating facts. “You even said you would beat me- look around, Iwaizumi- you did.”

That sad smile that only Iwaizumi had seen was plastered across Oikawa’s face again. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but feel like Oikawa had just backhanded him. He hadn’t ever seen it that way. He didn’t have the gall to see Oikawa as anything other than his best friend, even if they were on opposite sides of the net. Oikawa was always just...Oikawa. He was the source of his comfort and the source of his light. Oikawa was his constant. Oikawa was- Oikawa...hated him? Did Oikawa hate him?

“I already let Coach Blanco know. I’ve already begun the process with my family's lawyers to be back in Japan.” Oikawa wasn’t looking at Iwaizumi anymore.

“You started- before the game?” Iwaizumi was barely holding it together. The Oikawa he knew didn’t just give up. He had been beaten before, too many times before, but he always came back stronger: always.

Oikawa nodded dejectedly. He shrugged. “Just in case.”

“Oikawa-”

“I’m headed back to the hotel for now. I’m flying home after the closing ceremonies.” Oikawa stood up abruptly, his back to his best friend. He waved a hand over his shoulder. “See you, Iwa-chan. Congratulations on the win, you deserve it.”

Oikawa walked away, his white duffel bag slung over his shoulder, without another word from Iwaizumi. The darker-haired man stood in the middle of the gymnasium wordlessly, the only sounds being from the few staff that were still around. When the final point was scored, a perfect line shot from Bokuto, Iwaizumi’s first instinct was to find Oikawa to celebrate. His first reaction to winning an olympic gold medal was to find his best friend and kiss him until they both forgot how to breathe: the public's scrutiny be damned. He would have even settled for a hug. It wasn’t until his team was gathered together in a dog pile of a hug that he found Oikawa across the net. His head hung low in a scene that was devastatingly familiar from years of straight losses when they were partners in high school. His libero, Fernandez, came up behind him, said a few words quietly and earned a bitter laugh from Oikawa. To anybody else, it didn’t appear bitter, but Iwaizumi knew better. Fernandez patted his back and Oikawa nodded at the words from his coach who had joined the two. Iwaizumi strained to hear the words _silver_ and _your best_ passed around. Again, he knew neither of those things would satisfy Oikawa. Nothing would satisfy him other than gold. 

When Oikawa finally looked up, Iwaizumi’s chest felt tight. His heart felt like it was in an iron-like grip, struggling to keep beating. The corner of Oikawa’s lips tried so hard to lift. Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was proud of him, he knew he was glad that Iwaizumi would have the win, but it was so much deeper than that. 

Iwaizumi was crushed into a pile between Ushijima, Kageyama, and Hinata. He couldn’t help but feel like he had betrayed Oikawa. He knew he hadn’t, he did know this, and he knew that it was not what Oikawa would think, not out loud anyway. Neither man could help how he felt, in the end. Iwaizumi felt like he did something he shouldn’t have simply because it was something that Oikawa couldn’t do. Iwaizumi didn’t regret winning, he didn’t regret pushing the team as much as he knew full well who they had to face off against.

What he regretted was that Oikawa had to be the one on the other side of the net, watching the ball touch the floor on his side. He selfishly wished Oikawa’s team had been knocked out in an earlier game, his mind even stretched into the depths of regret and wondering, imagining Oikawa never being called to the Olympic team. He regretted that thought process as well.

More than anything, he regretted not going after Oikawa when he walked out of the gym.


End file.
